


So I Married An Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. Operative

by DiaryofaWriter



Series: Rebuilding After the Fall [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Past Child Abuse, Violence, firearms, mentions of child abuse, other triggers will be tagged as they show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaryofaWriter/pseuds/DiaryofaWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha left Clint Barton behind in Moscow to deal with Bobbi Morse, a potential Hydra traitor.  What no one expected, least of all Clint, was the relationship that would come about from this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint must be fucking insane.  That was really the only explanation for all of this.  First he’d agreed to follow Nat to fucking _Russia—_ somewhere she had sworn she would never return if she could ever help it—and then they’d been on a stakeout for what felt like a fucking eternity.  (It hadn’t really been that long, of course, but Clint was in a complaining mood)  

Then the stakeout had been a success—which was a great thing, really—until someone had to go and _jump on top of the van_.  What in the fuck was wrong with people lately?  Ever since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. only a week or so ago, the whole world seemed to be going insane as a whole.  Clint didn’t like it, to say the least.  It had been bad enough when he’d found out that a lot of people he had been working with—and had even started to trust—all turned out to be Hydra agents buried within S.H.I.E.L.D. itself.  Now he couldn’t even be helping Nat without something more being all fucked up.

It was really starting to be annoying.

Nat looked ready to murder the blonde woman who had landed on top of their van.  With the way things had been going lately, Clint wasn’t sure if he could keep Nat from doing just that to the woman.  The only thing he could do right now was send her away and hope for the best.

“Need a hand, Tasha?” Clint asked as he came up behind his friend.

“Take care of her for me,” Nat snapped.  “I have to stay with James.”

Clint nodded his understanding—even though he was still confused as all hell about what was going on, despite all the soul-bearing Nat had done back in New York—as he pulled out an arrow and aimed carefully.  He fired, and a net burst out of the arrowhead, wrapping around the blonde woman’s legs.  She fell with a startled cry, her batons—seriously?  Who the fuck used batons in a fight?  Was this woman a friggin’ cheerleader or something—clattering and skidding away on the pavement.  Turning to face Nat, Clint gave her hand a tight squeeze.

“Go on,” he said.   “I’ll hold her off.  We’ll meet at the usual place.”

Nat squeezed his hand in response and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “She’s good, Clint.  Be careful,” she warned.

“Yeah, yeah.  Go on, Tash.”

After Nat had climbed into the van and driven off, Clint turned to face his new opponent.  He hadn’t really gotten a good look at the woman before.  Now that he could, seeing as she was struggling to get the net that had snared her legs--pretty damned effectively, if Clint was allowed to say so--he got to examine her at his leisure.

She was blonde, but he’d noticed _that_ before she had gone down.  What he hadn’t noticed before was how tall she was.  Whoever this woman was, she must be half-amazon, because she was just a shade under six feet tall.  Not only was she tall, but she was also built to match that height.  Hard muscle was clear underneath the tight fabric of her tac suit.  

The suit itself was actually pretty odd, compared to other ones Clint had seen while in S.H.I.E.L.D., since this strange woman’s had streaks of _blue._  Clint himself had gotten a lot of shit from other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents about his insistence on having a touch of purple on his tac suit, so he wondered who this woman had beaten up to be allowed to have blue on hers.

“Y’know,” Clint said slowly, idly pulling another arrow out of his quiver and tilting his head instinctively so that his single hearing aid was away from the strange woman.  “Nat doesn’t exactly like it when other people attack her.  She’s got this... _thing_ about being snuck up on.  Doesn’t think it’s polite.”

“Huh,” the blonde commented idly, finally getting her legs free.  “Didn’t pick up on that when she tried to kill me.”

Without being able to stop himself, Clint found himself grinning a little at the sarcasm in the blonde’s voice.  He also noted--with a bit of relief, because he didn’t have the materials to repair it--that the woman didn’t rip or shred the net to make her escape easier.  Instead, she had done some very _\--ahem--_ interesting things with her legs, pointing her feet pretty damn well for someone wearing combat boots and shoved the net off.  Clint made a mental note to himself to grab it before he fled the scene.

“What’d you make that thing out of, anyway?” the blonde asked as she twisted up onto her feet, taking slow steps backwards towards her fallen batons.

“Got a little alloy the kids in R&D were cooking up before everything went to hell in a handbasket,” Clint shrugged.  “Pretty nifty stuff.  Wish I’d gotten more before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell apart.”

A look of pained regret flashed through the blonde’s pale eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, so Clint wasn’t entirely sure if he’d seen it to begin with.  With a speed that Clint couldn’t help but envy, the woman crouched down, her hands reaching out without even a sideways glance to grab her batons.

“I’m not here for you,” she said firmly.  “I’m here for a recruitment job.”

“It’s nice to know Nat’s still making an impression,” Clint retorted.  “But she’s not interested in working for crazy people.”

This time, the confusion in the blonde’s eyes didn’t fade away.  Instead, she arched both her eyebrows and stared at him hard, as though she was trying to figure out if she’d actually just heard him say that.  Clint had no idea why she was looking at him like that.  She was the one who was probably HYDRA, after all.

“I’m not here for Agent Romanoff,” the woman said slowly.  “I’m here for the Winter Soldier.”

Ah.  Well, that kinda cleared up a few things.  Not many, but it at least answered the question of why in hell this woman had attacked them.

Though, now that Clint stopped to think about it, she hadn’t _really_ attacked them.  Nat had made the first move in that respect.  A slight frown creased Clint’s forehead as he considered this.

“I don’t think he’s accepting job offers either, sorry,” he shrugged.  “Agent Romanoff would take issue with it anyway.”

“You still aren’t getting it,” the blonde said, a bitter laugh underlining her words.  “I’m not here for HYDRA!”

“Yeah, s’cuse me if I don’t buy that bridge after all I’ve had to deal with in the last few weeks,” Clint snarked back.  “I had to kill people who turned out to be HYDRA after I had been working with them for _years!_  So don’t pull that bullshit.”

“We _all_ had to!” the blonde shouted, her batons held so tightly that her knuckles were white.  “Don’t you dare talk to me like you were the only one who had to make sacrifices after we found out that HYDRA was buried inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.!”

That was really surprising to Clint.  Staring at the woman in front of him, he frowned deeply and slowly eased an arrow out to knock it onto the string of his bow.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded sharply.

But before the woman could respond, Clint felt a familiar shock run through his body as a taser was  shot into his back.  Arching sharply as the pain lanced through his body, accompanied by spasms in his muscles that made it impossible for him to keep a hold on his bow, Clint grunted weakly.  As he fell to the ground, he heard shouts from the distance out of his good ear.

“Fuck,” he groaned weakly.

“Take them both,” a male voice called from somewhere in the distance.

Clint moaned in pain.  His hearing aid had shorted out by now.  He fucking hated the cheap-ass piece of crap and how easily it shorted out when things like this happened.  Groaning again, Clint made a mental note to talk to Tony about getting him a new hearing aid of some sort.  Rolling onto his side, he coughed weakly as he forced himself onto his hands and knees.  

“I don’t think so,” the blonde woman snarled.  

There was a vague sound of metal whistling through the air, and Clint looked over.  Two men in suits--always with the suits, he thought with a bitter shake of his head--were standing between him and the blonde woman.  She twirled her batons again, and then took a fighting stance, her batons at the ready.  Clint groaned weakly as the effects of the taser wore off slowly.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned.

No one seemed to notice him as he pushed himself up to a kneeling position.  His bow had fallen as soon as his muscles had begun spasming, but it was--thankfully--just in reach.  Reaching out for it, he groaned as his muscles protested the movement.  Once his fingers closed around the familiar, smooth curve of the bow, he forced himself to stretch back and grab a new arrow.  

The blonde woman was still in a fighting stance, her hands tight around the batons.  Aiming carefully, just over her shoulder, Clint released the bowstring with a satisfied grunt.  As always, his aim was perfect.  The arrow sailed over the blonde’s shoulder and landed with a very pleasant _thunk_ in the asphalt at the feet of the two men in suits.

“What the fu--?”

Just before the arrowhead detonated in a flash bomb, the blonde woman seemed to realize what it was Clint had just done.  In an instant, she ducked herself down, her arm coming up to block her eyes.  Clint also ducked down, grinning to himself when he heard the cries of surprise and pain from their attackers.  When he lifted his head again, the two suits had fallen to their knees and were covering their eyes, cursing softly.  Hastily, Clint ran over to the blonde woman and grabbed her by the arm.

“Looks like it’s an ‘enemy of my enemy’ situation right now,” he said with a helpless shrug.  “Clint Barton.  Nice to meet you.”

“Bobbi Morse,” the woman said shortly.  “I _told_ you I wasn’t HYDRA.”

“You can be smug about it later,” Clint retorted.  “Right now we kinda have to get away from these guys.”

Bobbi nodded stiffly and smirked, twirling a baton with ease.  Clint still didn’t know what the hell kind of person fought hand to hand with a _baton_ of all fucking things.

“So where do we go from here?” Bobbi asked carefully.  

“How’s your Russian?” Clint replied.  “I’m pretty damned rusty.”

A scoff escaped Bobbi’s lips, much to Clint’s combined chagrin and pleasure.   _“You?”_ she demanded with a shake of her head.  “I thought you were hanging out with _Natasha Romanov_.  How do you let your Russian get rusty when you spend time around a living Russian?”

Clint couldn’t help but gaze at Bobbi’s lips.  As he did so, he had a sudden realization; it had been a very long time since he last had sex.  He hastily pushed that thought aside, mentally berating himself for letting his mind wander to that of all things when he and this woman he had literally just met were trying to escape with their lives.

As it usually did, his brain had other ideas.

“In my defense,” he said slowly, trying to force his mind away from all thoughts of sex, “Nat and I don’t exactly talk in Russian.”

“Speak,” Bobbi corrected absently.  “You speak in Russian.”

“...You know, you and Nat would get along really well.”

Bobbi looked like she was about to argue with him, but then there was a shout from behind them.  Turning sharply, Clint cursed loudly under his breath when he saw not just the two Hydra agents from before, but about six more.

“I fucking hate Hydra.”

“Get behind me,” Bobbi said sharply.

“Excuse me?!”

“You’ve got a long-range weapon.  I’m more short-range,” she explained, her tone still sharp.

Clint gave her an insulted look, but he couldn’t really argue that.  At this point, a bow and arrow would be pretty damned useless in a fight.  He was on the ground, which was really _not_ his best position in a fight, and then there was the little fact that the Hydra agents were getting far too close for arrows to be of much use.

“Fine,” he grumbled.  “But I’m not useless in a fight.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

Talking sorta became difficult after that.  Clint felt a hand on his arm and he turned sharply.  He found himself face-to-face with one of the Hydra agents.  Oh, this was not gonna go well for these guys.

With a low growl, he brought one hand up to slap the man’s hand away.  Then he closed his hand into a fist and slammed it, hard, into the other man’s nose.  There was a fairly satisfying noise as the cartilage of the nose gave way underneath his knuckles.  Almost instantly, he felt another hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t feel like a male hand.  Glancing over, Clint found himself looking right at Bobbi.

“Gimme a boost?” she asked.

Clint didn’t even stop to think.  Bending down on one knee, he leaned back to allow her room.  A vicious smile crossed Bobbi’s lips as she set one foot on his bent knee and then the other on his shoulder.  With a light push that caused Clint to grunt a little as her weight shifted on top of her, she vaulted over him.  One of her batons extended to the length of a quarterstaff and she slammed it down on the ground to continue her forward thrust.

He had to admit; Bobbi had a very strangely beautiful grace to her movements as she twisted to kick at the jaw of a nearby agent before she landed.  There was a loud crunching sound as her foot connected, and the agent went down hard.  Several of the other agents pulled out sidearms in answer, and there was a scream from the surrounding bystanders at this.

“Shit,” Clint swore softly.  “Keep them busy.  I’ll get people moving out of here!”

Bobbi didn’t even bother answering.  Instead, she spun her staff deftly, smacking the end of it against the hand of an agent holding a gun.  The weapon in question clattered to the ground and Clint turned to run into the crowd.  As he ran, he spotted a scared young girl who was crying for her mother.  Without even thinking, he reached out to scoop up the girl and ran further into the press of humanity.

“ _They have guns_!” he shouted in his broken Russian.  “ _Get out of here_!”

He spotted several police officers and set down the little girl with instructions to ask them for help finding her mother.  Only stopping long enough to check if the girl obeyed his guidance, Clint turned back towards Bobbi.  Unfortunately, some of the cops who had started running towards the ruckus that he and Bobbi were causing were now in his way.

“Circus training, don’t fail me now,” Clint hissed to himself as he broke into a sprint.

The cops didn’t really seem to know what to do with a crazy man carrying a bow who was running right at them.  One of them, who looked to be fifteen or so but was probably in his twenties, gave a shout in Russian for Clint to stand down.  Clint didn’t bother listening.  Instead, he gave a deft twist of his body and began to skid along the ground, slipping between the legs of two cops.  This definitely startled all of them.  A laugh that Clint couldn’t help at all escaped his lips as he did a deft combat roll to get back onto his feet.

“See ya later, boys!” he called over his shoulder.

Bobbi was still spinning and twirling her staff, keeping her attackers just out of reach as she smacked away their guns.  Clint was very impressed by this.  With a smirk, he tapped out the code he needed for a specific arrowhead on the buttons set into the grip of his bow.  His good ear caught the sound of machinery whirring away.  He smirked as the arrowhead clicked into place.  

“Hey!” Clint shouted.  “Bobbi, when I say, you get down!”

“Just gimme a signal!” she retorted.

Nocking the arrow on, he aimed careful and set his jaw.  “Now!” he called out.

Instantly, Bobbi ducked down, pressing a button on her staff that shrank it back down to the size of a baton.  As soon as she was down, Clint fired his arrow.  It landed directly in front of the line of Hydra agents.  There was a high-pitched whine for a moment, and then a pulse that caused every sidearm down to stick to the arrow.

“...High powered magnet?” Bobbi asked curiously as she stood up.

“Specially created to attract only guns,” Clint replied, unable to keep himself from preening a little bit.

“Very impressive.”

Clint smirked at this and then began punching his way through the other Hydra agents.  The next several minutes were a bit of a blur for Clint as he and Bobbi fought through the crowd.  One thought kept flashing through his mind as they fought; he hadn’t worked so well so quickly with someone since Natasha.  

After several minutes, they were alone with several unconscious agents at their feet.  The police sirens were wailing in the background, so they hurried out of sight.  Once they were in an alley, out of sight, Clint gave a breathless laugh.

“That was impressive,” he grinned at Bobbi.

“It really was,” Bobbi replied, also laughing breathlessly.

Glancing over at her, Clint found himself leaning closer to her.  She didn’t stop him, so he didn’t pull back.  Instead, in just a few moments, he found her lips pressed firmly against his as he pulled her against his chest.  They both seemed to come to themselves at the same time.  Instantly, they pulled apart and stared at one another in shock.

“...Erm…” Clint coughed weakly.  “Sorry about that,” he whispered softly.

“...No, it’s okay,” Bobbi replied gently.

“Can I...do it again, then?” he asked.

Bobbi didn’t answer with words.  Before Clint could start to pull away, he felt her fingers twist in his hair as she pulled his mouth down to meet hers.  Their lips moved slowly, exploring one another carefully as Bobbi’s fingers tightened in his hair.  Instinctively, Clint pressed one hand against the small of her back to keep her tight against his chest as he buried his other hand in her hair.  For some reason, this whole thing just felt _right_ to Clint, and he couldn’t explain what that reason was.  Whatever it was, he liked it.

When they pulled apart again, he stared down into her eyes in something like awe.  Now that he was so close to her, he realized that she was more than just a beautiful woman.  Something about Bobbi just made him start imagining things.  Things he hadn’t imagined since he had first started to become involved with Natasha, all those years ago.  That was really fucking scary to him, too.  He’d only just met Bobbi, and about an hour ago, they were this close to killing each other.  He really had no clue what it was about this woman that was making him imagine happy endings.

“I need to call my superior,” Bobbi said slowly.  “Do you want to stay close?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint replied, just a little too quickly for his own comfort.  “Who’s your boss.”

“Nick Fury.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“...Fury?”_ Clint asked in shock.  “Big black dude, got an eyepatch, temper like you only find on a veteran?  That Fury?”

An amused look crossed Bobbi’s face as she took a step back from him, forcing him to drop his hands to his side.  “No, sport, his twin,” she teased.  “Why are you so surprised, anyway?”

“It’s not that I’m surprised that he’s alive,” Clint said hastily.  “Nat kinda told me everything that went on when shit hit the fan and Hydra poked their ugly-ass heads out.  What surprises me is that she told me he was getting outta the game.  Y’know, with the whole world thinking he’s dead and all.”

Bobbi nodded slowly at this and held her phone out to him.  “If you’d like, I can let you talk to him yourself.  Just to prove that I’m on the up-and-up,” she added with a wry smile.

Clint couldn’t help the smile he gave her.  It really was freaking weird, honestly, how all of this was developing.  He had no idea what to do with what he was feeling for her, or even if what he was feeling was real or just adrenaline.  What if it was just adrenaline and it faded?  A part of Clint really did not like that idea.  At all.

Instead of saying anything, he just took the phone, like the fucking idiot he was.

“Speed dial 1,” Bobbi told him.

He nodded and selected the number, putting the phone on speaker and holding it up between them.  There was the faintly staticky sound of the other line ringing, which was comforting in and of itself.  At least the number was legit.  Then there was the soft click of a machine picking up.

“ _If you know the code, go on.  If not, I will find out how the fuck you found this number and make you answer to me_.”

Clint blinked a little, relief flooding through him.  He honestly didn’t know what he’d really expected when he dialed the number.  What he’d at least hoped for was the familiar sound of Fury’s voice, and that was what he’d gotten.  Smiling weakly over at Bobbi, he handed her the phone.

“I sure as hell don’t know it,” he pointed out.

An amused light entered Bobbi’s eyes as she accepted the phone.  “Roland, Laslo, Snowblood, Jones,” she said quietly into the phone.  “Fury, when you get this, please call me back.  Some developments have come up.”  Calmly, she hung up and gave Clint another smile.  “We should figure out what to do from here,” she added slowly, her hand twitching as though she was reaching towards him.

Clint swallowed and smiled weakly at her.  If she really had been about to hold his hand, he didn’t know how he would’ve reacted to that.  There was clearly a lot of sexual tension here already.  Even now, when the adrenaline was starting to fade away, he could still feel that pull that he hadn’t felt in a couple of decades.  It scared him more than a little to realize just how intense it was, honestly.

With Natasha, everything had been hot, fast, intense and demanding all at once.  There’d been very little give in that relationship and almost nothing but take.  But even now, with 20/20 hindsight helping him to see what it had been with Nat, he’d never really been able to deny just how amazing that magnetic draw between two people could be.  When things had ended between him and Nat--mutually, of course--it had mostly been because that pull was no longer there.  With Bobbi… it could very easily end up fading away as well.  What startled him was how much he hoped that things didn’t fade.

Except that there were no ‘things’ to fade away.  There’d been one kiss, and that was the end of it.  If he wanted anything more than that, he’d have to ask her about it, and they barely knew one another, so how in the hell was he gonna bring up the idea of a future?

That made him freeze a little bit.  A future?  Was that what he wanted from her?  Less than an _hour_ after meeting her?

Oh hell, he was a lost cause already.

“Er...yeah,” he stammered, realizing that Bobbi was staring at him in concern.  “We really should.  Nat’s expecting me in Kiev…”

“Kiev?” Bobbi asked curiously.  “Why Kiev?”  Clint gave her a pointed look.  She saw this and smiled wryly.  “I’m only asking out of a general curiosity.  You did hear Fury’s voicemail, so I hope you know you can trust me.”

“For now, I think so,” Clint admitted.  “But I’ve known you for less than an hour.  I don’t know that much about you as a person.”

A cynical part of Clint was almost sure that he was saying this to convince himself more than Bobbi of anything.  But it seemed to be logical to her, because she nodded thoughtfully, her lips turning upwards in a slight smile.

“Maybe we should fix that,” she suggested idly.  “Before you go meet up with Natasha.”

The you in that sentence told Clint more than he had expected; she wouldn’t be going with him, even though she was here on assignment from Fury.  His heart gave a sort of half-lurch at this realization and he closed his eyes for a split second before he nodded.

“We probably should wait to hear from Fury before I go meet up with her,” he said slowly.

A look that Clint couldn’t--or didn’t want to--put a name to came over Bobbi’s face and she nodded slowly.  “I think I’d like that,” she said quietly.  “Besides, I haven’t been to Moscow in a few years.  It’d be nice to just take it in for a few hours.”

~~~~

Clint hadn’t had good coffee in a few weeks, at least.  With the mission he’d been on, caffeine hadn’t exactly been a priority.  He had regretted that from the first morning on the job.  The life he’d started within S.H.I.E.L.D. about twenty years ago had been a bit shocking to the former-carnie.  Good food, good coffee, plenty of clothing on a regular basis; it was the very opposite of anything else he’d ever known.  Unfortunately, that life had spoiled him pretty damned quickly.

Taking the mug that the cafe waiter placed in front of him, Clint took a deep breath, enjoying the comforting smell for a moment.  This was exactly the sort of pick-me-up that he’d needed after the last few days and weeks he’d had.

“Ah, hell yeah,” he groaned softly before he took a long sip of coffee.  “Just what I needed.

Bobbi continued to watch him in open amusement, her eyebrows arched and her own mug held in her hands.  “I take it you’re another slave of caffeine?” she teased gently.

Clint gave her an unabashed grin.  “Coffee is like...my secondary God,” he admitted with a shrug.  “I mean, there’s the Almighty, and then there’s _coffee,”_ he added, emphasizing the word with reverence.

That got a laugh out of Bobbi.  She shook her head and turned her attention back to her mug.  “This is some pretty damned good coffee, I will admit that much,” she said slowly.  “You usually don’t find coffee this good while on the run.”

“Been on the run a lot?” Clint asked quietly, looking at her curiously from behind his mug.

Bobbi shrugged, her expression becoming a little bitter.  “Well, when you work with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury, you don’t exactly get to be stable all the time.”

“I guess not,” Clint said slowly.  “But it’s more stability than I’ve been used to in my life.”

Sympathy entered Bobbi’s eyes at this admission on his part.  With other people, Clint would see that kind of sympathy and instantly become defensive.  But for some reason, Bobbi didn’t make him feel like she was pitying him, rather than actually feeling badly for him.

“Bad childhood?” she asked gently.

“You could say that.”

They were both very quiet as they continued sipping their coffees.  Clint didn’t feel any pressure from Bobbi to give her any further explanation, and he really appreciated that much.  Looking down at the mug in his hands, he shrugged.

“Bad early adulthood, too,” he added, his voice soft.

More sympathy crossed Bobbi’s face and Clint smiled bitterly.  He didn’t want to make her feel badly for him.  That would just make him feel bad as well, and things were going so well between them already.

“How bad?” she hazarded.

Clint froze at this as he stared at her in shock.  He hadn’t really willingly shared this kind of information since he’d first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. all those years ago.  For a moment, he didn’t really know how to answer her.  Then he looked down at his hands and shrugged helplessly.

“Pretty bad,” he admitted slowly.  “It’s not exactly a really happy story.”

“I’ve found that most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents don’t exactly have happy stories,” Bobbi pointed out with a weak smile.  “I can show you mine in exchange, if you want.”

Again, she surprised him.  She was constantly doing that, Clint realized with a bit of amusement.  

His own fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and touch her hand.  Bobbi must’ve noticed, as her eyes flicked down towards his hand before she reached out as well.  When their fingers met, Clint drew in a sharp breath.  A shock ran up his arm, starting at the spot where their skin was in contact.  Looking at Bobbi in surprise, he saw the way her pupils were dilated and that filled him with an irrational hope.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” he whispered softly.

“And if I want to?” she challenged.

Clint didn’t really have an answer to that.  He opened his mouth to try and speak when there was the dull buzz of a phone set to vibrate.  

 _Saved by the bell_ , he thought sarcastically to himself as Bobbi reached into her suit for her phone.  

“Morse,” she answered quietly.  Then she smiled slightly to herself.  “Nick.  Yeah, I told you I had a new development to discuss.  No, I haven’t found them yet.  But another friend of yours and I are talking to one another right now.”

Clint smiled weakly and shrugged, starting to sign the ASL for _I wouldn’t call us friends_ out of habit before he stopped himself.

“Do you wanna talk to him?” Bobbi asked, holding the phone out to Clint.

He blinked in surprise at this and then slowly took the phone, nodding slowly.  “Nick,” he greeted quietly.  “Long time.”

“ _What the fuck’re you doing in Moscow, Barton_?”

“Well it’s fucking nice to talk to you too, you old bastard,” Clint rolled his eyes at this, smiling a little in relief at the sound of Fury swearing at him.  It was something that had a sort of familiarity to it that he really needed.  “I heard you’d gotten outta the business.  But that sounds like a lie, since I’m looking at Bobbi right now.”

“ _...The two of you already on a first-name basis_?”

“Well, we just took out several Hydra agents together.  I think she earned first-name basis from me,” Clint retorted, blushing a little.  He glanced over at Bobbi quickly and then hastily looked down before he could bring himself to consider what her expression meant.  “So why did you send her here anyway?”

“ _Ask her, why don’t ya_?” Fury retorted.  “ _Where the hell is Natasha is the really important question._ ”

“You’ll have to talk to her about that,” Clint shrugged.  “I need you to answer my question first.  Why is Bobbi here?”

 _“...Well fine, if you’re gonna be an ass about it.  I sent her to find the Winter Soldier._ ”

That… actually explained a hell of a lot.  From what Nat had told him, James/the Winter Soldier was a fucking amazing asset.  Any spymaster would be an idiot to turn down an opportunity to recruit him.  Unfortunately, Fury wasn’t exactly what one could call “subtle” when it came to offering a job.  Then there was the fact that, as far as Clint knew, Fury didn’t know about Nat’s connection with the Winter Soldier.  If he had, maybe Fury would have gone through her instead of sending an operative that wasn’t exactly well-known.

“Oh,” was all Clint said.  “Then, yeah.  We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

 _“Clearly,”_ Fury huffed.  “ _Is there a reason why you and she were in Moscow?_ ”

“Again, you’ll have to ask her,” Clint replied with a wry smile.  “She has her reasons for doing shit, and you know it.”

There was a frustrated sigh on the other end of the phone.  Fury was not happy with him, it seemed.  But at this point, Clint really could not give less of a fuck.  With all of the bullshit that had gone on in the last week or so, he was just plain out of fucks to be given.

“So what now, boss?” Clint snarked.

“ _For starters, you can can that sarcasm, Barton_ ,” Fury snarked right back.  “ _And maybe you should meet up with Natasha and tell her that I wanna know what the fuck is going on right now_.”

Clint almost saluted cheekily before remembering that Fury wouldn’t be able to see him.  Instead, he made a noncommittal sound of agreement.  “It’ll take at least ten hours,” he hedged.  “Do you want me to tell her you want her to call you?”

“ _You’ll get around to that soon enough, if I know you_ ,” Fury snorted.  “ _Just meet up with her and go from there_.”

“Right,” Clint sighed.  “Good talking to you again, Boss.”

“ _Yeah, yeah.  Don’t get too mushy on me, Barton.  Go ahead and hand me back over to Morse._ ”

Clint smiled weakly and held the phone out to Bobbi.  “Looks like your dad wants to talk to you, birdy,” he teased.

Bobbi laughed at this and arched an eyebrow at him.  “‘Birdy’?” she asked with a slight smile.  “I think I like it.”

A hot blush crawled up Clint’s neck, moving towards his cheeks and settling there.  He wanted to duck his head down to hide the blush, but that would make it more obvious.  Instead, he brought his mug of coffee back up to his lips and sipped.

“Yeah, Fury,” Bobbi said into the phone.  “Right.  The mission is still a go?  Okay.  Right.  I’ll keep in touch.”  She calmly hung up and stuffed his phone into her tac suit.  “So it looks like I’m assigned to ‘stick to you like glue’.  I hope you don’t hate that idea too much.”

Staring at Bobbi in shock, Clint found himself hastily clearing his throat as he nodded slowly.  “I’m okay with that idea,” he said quietly.  “I hope _you_ are.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bobbi asked in surprise.

“...Why _would_ you be okay with it?” Clint replied, just as surprised as her.  “I mean… I did kinda accuse you of being Hydra.”

“And then you and I fought together against Hydra and we kissed,” Bobbi pointed out, shrugging with a slight quirk of her lips.  “And it was a hell of a good kiss.”

Clint blinked a little at this, smiling weakly at her.  “It--yeah.  It really was,” he agreed quietly.  “I’d...kinda like to do more than just kiss.”

Bobbi looked at him intently, smiling a little bit more.  “Yeah?  Me too.”

That made Clint rock back a little on his heels.  He couldn’t really put into words just how this made him feel.  It was more than a little overwhelming.  Leaning in close, he touched her hand gently and smiled weakly.

“I--would you be okay with--” he stopped himself quickly, because this was a really ridiculous idea that had just fucking popped into his mind.  “Nevermind.  It’s a stupid idea.”

A curious look crossed Bobbi’s face as she leaned in close as well.  “No, go on,” she said quietly.  “What is it?”

“I really shouldn’t say,” Clint insisted, shaking his head.  “It really is a friggin’ stupid idea.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bobbi insisted, smiling gently.  “Go on.”

Clint took a deep, steadying breath as he stared into her eyes.  He could so easily tell her what he was thinking and feeling.  But then he risked making her think that he was fucking insane, which he was pretty sure he was.  Then again, he’d been pretty damned sure about his insanity some time ago.

“You really shouldn’t ask--”

“Please?” Bobbi pressed softly.

Closing his eyes, Clint smiled weakly and shook his head in frustration before he spoke.  “I was thinking maybe we should...get married.”

Bobbi stared at him in shock.  Clint was sure he’d just ruined any chance of anything ever happening between the two of them in that moment.  Not that there had been much of a chance of anything happening to begin with.  Standing up slowly, he placed some rubles on the table to pay for his coffee.  

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Wait,” Bobbi said suddenly, reaching out to take his hand.  “Clint--”

He stopped at the touch of her hand, but he didn’t dare allow himself to hope for anything.  If he let himself hope, he’d only set himself up for failure, and he was all too familiar with that particular sensation.

“Clint,” Bobbi repeated gently, giving his hand a soft squeeze.  “It is a little sudden, I will admit.  But...sure.  Let’s get married.”

That startled Clint.  More than a little.  Staring at her in shock, he sat back down heavily, his hand instinctively moving to cover hers.  This couldn’t be happening.  Not really.  He’d been stupid to even want this sort of thing from her.  And yet she was saying that it would be… okay.

“What?” he asked in awe.  “Y-you’re saying yes?  Why?”

A thoughtful expression crossed Bobbi’s face as she held his hand close.  “There’s… something about you that fascinates me,” she admitted quietly.  “I don’t know how to put it into words, but you make me want to trust you.  Make me want to see you happy.”

Hope welled up inside of Clint’s chest and he did his best to tamp down on that.  It just wouldn’t be smart to get hopeful when she was saying this kinda stuff.  This whole situation was fucked up and impossible, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about those aspects of it.  He just wanted to see if this was really happening and if it would work out.

“You make me want--” he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before he could meet her gaze again.  “God.  We’ve known one another for less than two hours and you make me want things I haven’t wanted in years,” he admitted.

“What kinds of things?” Bobbi asked gently, her thumb gently running over his knuckles.

The soft touch--such an intimate thing for two people who barely knew one another--made a shiver run up and down Clint’s spine as he watched her closely.  Slowly, he took another steadying breath.

“Things like a life outside of the work I do,” he said in a low voice.  “Things like a ring on my finger, someone else in my bed to wake up to, and maybe a real home.”

A soft smile crossed Bobbi’s lips as she continued rubbing his knuckles.  “Yeah?” she murmured.  “It’s--God, it’s so crazy, but you make me feel almost the exact same way.  I don’t even know why or how it happened.”

“I wanted to think that it was just adrenaline,” Clint smiled weakly.  “But then the adrenaline faded, we had coffee, and I still want those things.”

“And I still want those things,” Bobbi assured him.  “So let’s do it, Clint.  Let’s get married.  Right here, in Moscow.  There must be a Justice of the Peace or something that can give us a legal ceremony.”

“Seriously?” Clint grinned broadly, touching her cheek gently.

“Seriously, sport,” Bobbi murmured.  “Let’s go.”

Clint’s smile spread as he stood up, pulling her up with him.  “Yeah.  Let’s.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious, Bobbi's code to Fury is from New Avengers: The Reunion.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint Barton was a lot of things. Rash and reckless were definitely both on that list. Nat had made that much crystal clear to him several different times. Right now, Clint could almost _hear_ Nat telling him how stupid he was being. But then he glanced over at Bobbi, and he just didn’t care anymore if this was stupid.

Even wearing a dirtied and ripped tac suit while covered in blood and bruises, she was so beautiful. Her blonde hair was matted and dirty, but that was secondary to the flush of her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes. Like Nat, there was a contained grace in every movement that Bobbi made, but in a slightly different manner. Nat’s grace was that of a dancer, lithe and fluid, while Bobbi’s was more like a boxer. Whatever it was, just seeing her there beside him was enough to make Clint sure that what they were about to do was the right thing.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching over to take hold of Bobbi’s hand. “You still want to do this?”

“Are you getting cold feet?” Bobbi teased gently. “Because I’m still ready to go through with this.”

A grin spread across Clint’s face. “Just wanna make sure.”

“Well, stop asking,” she retorted. “I’m telling you right now that I am absolutely positive that I want this. Since we’ve met, there’s been... _something_ between us that’s made me feel like I need to keep you in my life.”

Awe swept over Clint at those words. Leaning closer to her, he pressed his forehead to hers and cupped his free hand over her jaw. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I--I don’t know what I’m feeling for you, exactly, but whatever it is, I don’t want it to end.”

“Neither do I, Clint,” Bobbi said quietly. “So let’s go finish this whole ‘getting married’ thing.”

Looking at his bride-to-be, Clint nodded his agreement. He had no fucking clue how he had gotten so lucky today, but he was glad it had happened. Giving Bobbi’s hand a soft squeeze, he felt his cheeks starting to ache from all the smiling he was doing.

“Yeah, let’s.”

~~~~

_“Nat, c’mon,” Clint grinned at the redhead. “It’s for our cover story.”_

_“I am not wearing a wedding ring, Clint,” Natasha Romanov scoffed. “I don’t care what excuse you give me. I’m not playing into your odd little fantasy.”_

_Clint couldn’t help but laugh at Nat’s attitude about this whole thing. It had been about two years since Nat first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., and the two agents had been limited in how much time they were able to spend with one another. This would actually be only their second mission together, and Clint had been looking forward to it for months since he first heard that the two of them would be going undercover together._

_He also had to admit, he did have a bit of an ulterior motive for asking Nat to wear a wedding ring. But he couldn’t afford to think about that for too long._

_“Well that just hurts, Tasha,” he groused playfully. “I just want our cover to be as authentic as possible.”_

_Nat scoffed again and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you want our cover to be ‘authentic’, but I am not wearing the ring.” She paused before adding with a smirk, “And I don’t think sex is gonna be a thing either.”_

_“Who said anything about sex?” Clint asked with wide-eyed innocence. “Nat, are you having naughty thoughts about me?”_

_“Don’t flatter yourself, Barton,” Nat laughed quietly._

_Flashing Nat a charming grin, Clint tossed her the ring box. “Just think about it, Tash. For the mission.”_

_Even as she rolled her eyes again, Nat caught the box easily and stuffed it into her pocket. It was a tiny victory, but it was a victory all the same, and it was just enough to fill Clint with at least a sliver of hope. What exactly he was hoping for, he wouldn’t let himself consider for too long. If he let himself think about that ring on Nat’s finger, then he’d start wanting Things._

_The problem with wanting Things was that he already knew that he’d never have them. That knowledge, combined with an irrational and impossible hope, would only end up hurting him more in the end._

_“So why exactly do you suffer from the delusion that you and I need to pretend to be married for this mission?” Nat asked, leaning back in her seat._

_Clint shrugged a little and smiled wryly. “Well, we are going to be investigating a group that uses wealthy, married couples to finance their Ponzi scheme,” he pointed out. “So if we want them to get in contact with us...” he let his voice trail off pointedly._

_Nat shook her head in amusement and leaned forward to pat his cheek lightly. “You’re cute when you’re being logical,” she teased gently. “But you know what my stance on marriage is.”_

_“I also know what your stance on love is,” Clint shrugged, trying to not sound as bothered as he actually felt. “You were very clear when we were working together before S.H.I.E.L.D., y’know.”_

_A look of sympathy seemed to cross Nat’s face, but it was gone so quickly that Clint was sure he had imagined it to begin with. “What is it, Clint?” she asked gently. “Why do you want us to play at being husband and wife so badly?”_

_Clint didn’t meet her gaze right away, looking intently at his feet rather than risking seeing that pity in her eyes again. “It’s nothing,” he muttered._

_“Clearly it is something, otherwise you wouldn’t be so insistent,” she pointed out. “Just tell me what it is, Clint.”_

_He paused for a moment, wondering if he could risk telling her something so intimate and secret. He hadn’t even admitted it to himself until very recently. Taking a deep breath, Clint glanced up into Nat’s eyes for a brief moment. “It’s because it’s something I’ll probably never have in reality. So I might as well see how it feels in a mission.”_

_There was a long silence following his admission, and Clint looked up cautiously. Nat was staring at him in surprise, her lip caught between her teeth as she thought over what he had said._

_“I see,” was all she said for a moment. “You know that even on a mission, I can’t give you what you really want, Clint.”_

_He sighed heavily and closed his eyes again. “Yeah. I know. It’s not gonna be something I ever get.”_

~~~~

As they walked out of the courthouse where they had just been married, Clint was still a little shocked at everything that had just happened. They hadn’t managed to actually get a ring for the ceremony, but it didn’t really matter right now. Clint would figure out the ring issue later. For the moment, he was more focused on the fact that he had actually just gotten married.

“Hi, Mrs. Barton,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around his new bride’s shoulders and grinning at her.

“Hello, Mr. Barton,” Bobbi replied, grinning back. “It’s a little weird realizing that I have a new last name. I’m a B.B. now!” she added, laughing merrily.

“That has a cute ring to it,” Clint teased, kissing her forehead gently and hugging her tighter to his chest. “But I think I like Bobbi or birdie better.”

“Well, I did say that I liked birdie,” Bobbi agreed. “So I guess we’ll stick with those. How about you? Any pet names off-limits?” she added, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Nah, not really,” Clint shrugged, rubbing her back. “I mean, anything that’s just ridiculous, like ‘sugar bear’ is right out. But other than that, no, nothing.”

A mischievous light entered Bobbi’s eyes at this and Clint almost instantly regretted mentioning ‘sugar bear’ to her.

“Oh is that so,” she murmured. “Sugar bear.”

“God, I want a divorce,” Clint groaned dramatically. “How could I have been so silly to let you know my one weakness?”

Bobbi’s laugh rang out clearly as they continued down the street together. “Too late, Barton,” she grinned triumphantly. “I got you by the balls, so to speak.”

“I thought the term was ‘ball and chain’, though,” Clint asked with pretended innocence.

“I like mine better,” Bobbi shrugged. “Come on. We should find a place to get some clothes and a bit of rest before we go after Natasha and her friend.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Clint admitted. Now that he actually stopped to think about it, most of his body was aching from the fight with the Hydra agents. He really was starting to get old. “You wouldn’t happen to have a safehouse in the Moscow area?” he asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“I don’t, personally,” Bobbi said. “But I have access to Fury’s.”

“Then that sounds like our next stop,” Clint said with a sage nod.

Bobbi smiled up at Clint and nodded. Without saying anything further, she took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. They really did stand out, Clint thought with a wry smile as they made their through the streets of Moscow. Not only was Bobbi shockingly blonde, but they were both in very beat up tac suits that people weren’t usually seen wearing in casual company. Then there was the fact that they both looked like they’d been in a fight with bruises and split lips and bloody knuckles.

By the time they reached the safehouse that was apparently Fury’s, Clint was really starting to feel stiff. Even though the safehouse wasn’t a house at all, but just a single bedroom apartment, it would be enough to get them both rested up. He just hoped that there was a shower in the place.

“There should be clean, civilian clothing somewhere in this place,” Bobbi said, dropping his hand reluctantly. “I just hope that there’s some I can pull off wearing.”

Clint’s eyes flicked over Bobbi at this and he smiled a little to himself. “I think you’d look sexy in anything you wore,” he murmured quietly.

A soft flush crossed Bobbi’s cheeks and she ducked her head quickly. “You shush, sport,” she said with a wry laugh. “I’m sure we’re both too sore and tired to even think about trying to consummate this marriage tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Clint sighed. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right, y’know.”

“Just go shower already while I find us clothes,” Bobbi said, her blush darkening to a very pleasant crimson color.

Laughing softly under his breath, Clint nodded obediently and went off in search of the shower. Hot water was just what he needed after the hellish day they’d both had. Once inside the tiny bathroom, he turned on the hot water, amazed at how powerful the water pressure was in this tiny place. Smiling a little bit at this, Clint began tugging off his dirty clothing. There were several different rips and stains on the fabric. They were probably a lost cause at this point. With a light huff, he tossed them aside and shrugged a little to loosen the muscles of his shoulders.

Once he was completely naked, he stepped under the stream of hot water and groaned in open relief. The warmth of the water, combined with the pressure of it pounding against his sore muscles was enough to give him a feeling of lazy contentment. He closed his eyes and leaned forward so that his forehead rested against the cool tiles of the shower, a sharp contrast to the heat and condensation of the shower.

After several minutes of just enjoying the heat of the water, he began to slowly wash himself off. It did make some of his muscles ache as he stretched to wash off all the blood off his body, but it was definitely worth it. It took him a while to get completely clean. By the time he finished, his skin glowed a little with how hard he’d scrubbed. He turned off the water and slowly stepped out of the shower, stretching a little before he began to dry himself off. Since he had no clean clothing with him inside of the bathroom, he had to settle for just wrapping a towel around his hips.

Stepping out of the bathroom slowly, he looked around for his new bride. “Bobbi?” he called quietly.

“Hey, spor-- Oh, _damn,”_ Bobbi answered, her eyes running hungrily over Clint’s body when she spotted him. “I did not think this through, clearly.”

“Huh?” Clint asked with a startled look down at himself. “Oh...right. I just... didn’t have any clothing here.”

“No, I know,” Bobbi stammered with a blush, smiling weakly. “I just didn’t realize how hot my husband actually is.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he snorted, shaking his head with a wry smile of his own. “Did you actually find us some clothes?”

Bobbi nodded and held out a small bundle to him. “These should fit you pretty well,” she said carefully. “I think I’m gonna go take a... Cold shower,” she muttered to herself.

Clint smiled weakly as she walked past him. They really were in for a tough night, it seemed. But Bobbi had been right earlier when she said they were both too tired for sex tonight. So sex would definitely have to wait, but he really wished it didn’t have to.

~~~~

Later that night, after they had both showered, changed, and gotten some food, Clint found himself curled up in a tiny bed with his arm draped over Bobbi’s waist, keeping her close against his chest. Even now, several hours after what had happened, he still couldn’t fully believe his luck. Right now, held in his arms, was the most beautiful woman he ever knew, and she was his _wife._

God, was he ever lucky.

“I think I’m really close to falling deeply in love with my wife,” Clint whispered softly into Bobbi’s hair.

A soft, sleepy chuckle was his answer.  “So am I,” she mumbled lazily. “Only not with a wife, obviously.”

“You really are tired, birdie,” Clint laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Go ahead and sleep, kay?” he added, rubbing her side gently.

Again, Bobbi laughed quietly, snuggling back against his chest.  “Sure thing, boss,” she teased gently, stifling another yawn.  “You get some sleep too, okay?”

Clint smiled slightly at this and kissed her temple again. “M’kay,” he muttered softly.

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning to my readers: this chapter contains a flashback that portrays child abuse. If you aren't interested in reading that, then skip over the italicized scene.

When Clint woke up, it was to an empty bed. At first, that made him panic as he sat up quickly and looked around the room to ensure that he really was alone. Once he was sure that Bobbi wasn’t with him, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair, looking around intently.

“Birdie?” he called in a low voice.

“In the kitchen, sport,” the voice of his wife responded.

Relief flooded over Clint as he heard her voice and he followed it into the kitchen with a slight smile. “Hey,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist gently. “Woke up and you were gone.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, leaning back against his chest. “Didn’t want to wake you up when I went to make breakfast.”

“I thought you were just a dream,” Clint admitted. “I mean... I almost never get to have such nice things in my life.”

Bobbi turned in his arms and looked up at him with a soft frown. She reached up and touched his chin gently, her expression full of concern for him. “What do you mean?” she asked in a low voice.

Clint shook his head and smiled weakly. “It’s a very long and not a happy story,” he said, rubbing her back gently. “I don’t think it’s the sorta thing I should tell my new bride on the morning after our wedding.”

“No,” Bobbi agreed, quirking a smile up at him. “That’s something you should tell your bride long before the wedding so she can get loose before it’s too late.”

“Haha, real funny,” Clint scoffed, rolling his eyes at her. “Like I said, my past isn’t the sort of thing you share over a nice cup of coffee.”

The smile faded slowly from Bobbi’s face as she took this in, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. “I am sorry to hear that,” she said in a low voice. “Is there anything I can do to make it... easier to talk about?”

Clint considered this as he looked down into her eyes. A part of him really couldn’t comprehend what brand of luck had allowed him to have this woman in his life. Resting his forehead against hers, he gently stroked her hair.

“I don’t think anything could make it easier to talk about,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean... I think only Natasha has a chance of beating me out for saddest childhood story among the Avengers team.”

“I’ve read her file,” Bobbi nodded with a wry smile. “What I was able to read, that is,” she added with a chuckle. “I mean, a lot of it was redacted to hell and back when I tried to read it.”

“Clearance not high enough?” Clint asked curiously.

“Guilty,” Bobbi grinned, rubbing his shoulder gently. “But seriously, sport,” she murmured, her smile fading again, “if you ever need to talk about your past, I’m kinda stuck with you from now on. So I kinda have to help you,” she added, teasing a little.

“Oh, you _have_ to,” Clint teased in return, rubbing her back. “Well, when you put it that way...”

Bobbi laughed a little, kissing his chin gently. “Well, it’s true,” she shrugged.

Clint considered this for several moments, hugging Bobbi close and resting his chin on top of her shoulder. Bobbi was a very tall woman, he mused to himself as he just enjoyed the warmth of her body in his arms. She was so tall, actually, that her shoulder was really the only place where he could rest his chin when they were standing together like this. Any other woman, he’d be able to tuck her head underneath his chin. Not that he was complaining, of course. He actually really liked how close to his height Bobbi was.

“I... I do want you to trust me,” he admitted.

“I already do,” Bobbi assured him. “You proved I could trust you when you helped me fight those Hydra agents.”

“Is that all it took?” Clint asked with an arch of his eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not.”

“You should,” Bobbi nodded with a slight smile. “I don’t usually trust that easily.”

Clint smiled slightly at her, kissing her forehead gently. “Well, then I am flattered, Mrs. Barton,” he murmured, holding her close. “I guess I should tell you something about my past, then...”

“Not if you really don’t want to,” Bobbi murmured quietly.

“I want to,” Clint said firmly. “Because, even though we only met yesterday, I’m falling in love with my wife.”

“Wow, alert the newspapers,” Bobbi teased, even as her eyes filled with a look of delight and shy hope.

“Y’know,” Clint sighed with a shake of his head, “you’re making it hard to be serious.”

“That is my job, yes,” the blonde woman laughed with a shrug. “Do you want some breakfast?” she added, arching an eyebrow at him.

The smell of newly-made scrambled eggs was a very good distraction from thinking about his past. Smiling with a nod, he kissed Bobbi’s forehead gently. “Sure,” he murmured. “We do need to think about getting onto the road soon anyway. It’ll be a pretty long drive.”

Bobbi made a face at this reminder and nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” she sighed dramatically. “Come on. I’ll go get us some extra clothes from the stash.”

“I’ll get you some food dished up,” he replied with a wry smile. “Go on.”

“Thanks.”

Clint smiled wryly as he watched her walk away. His eyes drifted down towards her backside and he cleared his throat quietly. God, he really was lucky to have such a sexy wife. With that thought in mind, he turned back to the eggs and began wrapping them up in tortillas. Once he had the food prepared, he made his way out to the car to check on the gas level.

“We ready to go?” Bobbi asked from behind him.

“It looks like,” Clint smiled over at her. “Climb in, birdie. We’re off to see the wizard.”

Bobbi laughed at this and nodded, slipping into the car with him. “Let’s go, sport,” she grinned.

~~~~

Several hours later, Clint stifled a yawn and glanced over at Bobbi. They’d both been driving on and off for about six hours. There was another four hours left in the journey, and Clint was sure he definitely didn’t want to keep driving without a break of some kind. That and Bobbi looked a little terrified by his driving.

“It can’t really be that bad,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at her.

“Clearly you think you’re handling a monster truck in a demolition derby,” she retorted with a wry smile. “Because that is the only explanation I can come up with for your driving.”

“Ha-ha-fucking-ha, you’re a comedy genius,” Clint deadpanned. “Let’s just pull over, then, so you can get outta this car.”

“You mean so we can get out of the car,” Bobbi corrected with a wry smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint smiled slightly over at her. “There should be a small town up ahead where we can pull offroad for a bit.”

“Sounds good,” Bobbi nodded.

Not long later, Clint found a promising exit and parked in a parking lot just outside of a small grocery store. Stifling a yawn, he tilted his head a little until he felt more than heard the satisfying pop of his neck. That reminded him of the fact that his hearing aid had been shorted out the day before. He was going to have to deal with that when they got to the safehouse in Kiev. Fucking fantastic.

“Ooh, we can grab some food here,” Bobbi said with a grin as she slipped out of the car.

Clint chuckled a little at this and slipped out as well, leaning his arms against the roof of the car. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he pointed out softly. “If you wanna grab something to eat, go ahead. I’m just gonna take a short walk.”

“Stay close, okay?” Bobbi said quietly, her expression becoming serious. “We don’t know if we’ve been followed by Hydra.”

That was a good point, Clint thought with a slight frown. Moving around the car so he was standing beside her, he gently pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be safe,” he murmured. “Besides, I put your number in my phone while you were getting stuff together at the safehouse. If I need you, I’ll give you a call.”

“Wow, I married a smart man,” Bobbi laughed, kissing his cheek gently. “Just stay close anyway.”

“Yes ma’am,” Clint grinned at her, kissing her temple and then letting her go into the shop.

It didn’t take Bobbi too long to get them a few snacks in the shop, and to keep her happy Clint did stay pretty close by. When he saw her walking out, he hurried over to open the car door for her.

“Ma’am,” he greeted with a cheeky smile.

Bobbi nodded and smiled softly. “Thank you, sir,” she replied with a chuckle. “But let’s not eat and drive at the same time. We’ve been driving for six straight hours, after all.”

“Do you wanna go to a picnic table or something?” Clint asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Backseat’s just fine,” Bobbi shrugged, slipping under his arm to open up the back door with a grin as she slipped in. “We can just sit and talk while we eat.”

“Y’know, it’s hard to eat and talk at the same time,” Clint pointed out as he joined her in the back seat.

“Haha, now who’s the comedian?” she scoffed with a smile. “C’mon, sport. We can at least cuddle.”

“Ooh, I am okay with that idea,” he laughed, snuggling up against his wife and reaching for the grocery bag.

“I see how it is,” Bobbi laughed, swatting his hand away. “You just love me for my ability to forage for food.”

“So you think I love you already,” Clint murmured softly, nuzzling her shoulder. “But yeah. I don’t know if I love you love you yet, but I know that I already don’t want you out of my life. Ever.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Bobbi smiled at him. “So. We can at least chat a bit.”

Clint nodded slowly, grabbing a bottle of coke from the bag. It was still chilled from the fridge, which was pleasant after being the one gripping a steering wheel until his palms were sweating.

“We can,” he agreed with a shrug. After a few quiet moments--comfortably quiet; not an awkward quiet--he took her hand in his and kissed Bobbi’s knuckles gently. “I think I’m ready to talk about my past.”

Bobbi looked up at him in surprise at this, her eyes widening slightly. “I told you, sport, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, Bobbi,” he assured her with a sad smile. “You’d better be ready to cry, though.”

~~~~

_Clint had grown up knowing that, when Dad came home reeking of the ‘adult drinks’, it was time to follow Barney either into the basement, or upstairs to their room. It didn’t always mean that they were safe, though. If Mom wasn’t around to keep Dad from coming after them, or if she was too hurt to stop him, Dad would stomp after the boys._

_Clint hated those days. Today was one of them._

_Barney had heard Dad’s car coming up the road before Clint did. That was usually how it went, actually. Clint didn’t know why he didn’t hear as well as Barney did.  Whatever the reason was, it pissed Dad off really badly. Dad hated when Clint didn’t respond instantly to whatever he said, and that was when the nights got really unbearable for him._

_He really didn’t want to have that happen tonight. But Mom was still too badly hurt from the last time Dad came home smelling like the bar. That usually meant that Barney was the only person who could stand between Clint and Dad. Already, he could hear Dad’s footsteps, heavy on the stairs._

_“Go on, Clint,” Barney said in a low voice, opening up the closet door. “Go in there. Dad won’t look for you in here.”_

_“But Dad will hit you this time, Barney,” Clint protested, tiny hands reaching out for his brother. “You hide too.”_

_“No,” Barney said firmly. “Just stay here, okay.”_

_Before Clint could protest further, Barney closed the closet door in his face. Whining in fear, Clint pressed his ear to the door. He could hear Dad’s footsteps coming closer, and that made him feel even worse._

_“Where is that worthless piece of shit brother of yours?”_

_Dad’s voice was slurring, the way it always did when he’d been drinking too much. Clint frowned a little bit at this and curled up even more._

_“Dunno, Dad,” Barney mumbled._

_There was the sound of flesh hitting against flesh and Barney grunted in pain. Clint flinched in sympathetic pain. He hated it when Dad hurt Barney instead of him. Honestly, he just hated Dad in general. Probably not the best thing to say about your dad, but it was true._

_“I said,_ where is he _?” Dad shouted, slapping Barney again._

~~~~

Bobbi listened in horror as Clint spoke. He’d been expecting a reaction like that, honestly. Nat had had a similar look in her eyes when he told her about his father. Shrugging slightly, he smiled weakly at his new wife and stroked her hair.

“It’s okay, birdie,” he assured her. “It was a very long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it _right_ that your father did things like that to you and your brother!” Bobbi protested with a frown.

“No, it doesn’t,” Clint admitted. “But it’s stuff I’ve put behind me a very long time ago. Mostly.”

“Oh God,” Bobbi murmured softly, stroking his hair. “I am so sorry you had to put up with that.”

“But without it, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” Clint pointed out. “I wouldn’t have met you, and we wouldn’t be married like we are.”

“...A good point, I guess.”

Clint smiled weakly at her, kissing her forehead fondly. “It’s okay, birdie. I just... Wanted you to trust me more. That’s all.”

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” Bobbi said with a sad smile. “I’ve tried to tell you that, but if you still think you have to prove yourself to me--”

“It’s an old habit, I’ll admit,” Clint smiled weakly. “Nat sorta helped me get over it, but... I’m still working on it.”

“Well, then I’ll do what I can to help you from now on,” she murmured. “Now...could you tell me more about why you and Nat were in Moscow?”

Clint smiled slightly at this and kissed her slowly. “I think I can. I guess I trust you enough for that.”

“Oh, you guess,” she laughed. “Go on, then.”

As they continued to eat, Clint told her between bites of food about all Nat had told him when she arrived at their joint New York safehouse. The whole time, Bobbi didn’t ask too many questions. By the time he’d finished, Bobbi nodded slowly at this.

“So... Wow. She’s trying to help her ex-lover regain his memories. No wonder she assumed the worst when I showed up to ‘recruit’ him for Fury. I mean, if I were in her place--”

“Yeah,” Clint smiled sadly. “But that’s why I’m trying to help her so much. And why we should get back on the road to Kiev, birdie.”

“You’re right,” Bobbi sighed with a slight smile. “Let’s go.”

  
  



End file.
